


Stockinette

by Enchantable



Series: Stitches [4]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Knitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 19:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh knits best when Mako's besides him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stockinette

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: How about a fluffy knitting first kiss one? Pretty please?

"You realize it’s summer right?" 

Raleigh smiles and shakes his head as he guides the needles through the yarn. It’s a stormy blue this time, the skein soft as he’s ever felt. It’s the most expensive yarn he’s ever handled, but the money isn’t something he’s concerned. with. In four days it’s going to be Chuck’s birthday and he wants to give Herc something. He’d rip his own heart out if it would bring back his son. But it won’t so he guides the yarn into the shape of a blanket even though he knows it will never be enough. 

The needles pause as his thoughts get more stormy. The gentle whisper of Mako’s brush pauses. he raises his head to offer a smile but she’s already moved it to the side, away from the thick paper she’s been pulling it against. He automatically moves his hands to give her space and she settles herself against him. He picks up his needles and continues to knit as she adjusts herself against him. 

He likes these moments, he likes them a lot. Usually Mako will have some project she brings with her, when she has nothing she sometimes brings her own knitting. But there’s something comforting about her when she goes still. Not poised to attack, her muscles tight and coiled, but still like the entire world is calm. The heat of her body seeps through his chest and he lets his eyes droop as he continues to knit. 

"It won’t be summer forever," he says finally. 

"Winters aren’t that cold here," she tells him. 

"Maybe we could go to Alaska," he says before he can stop himself. 

She tenses slightly against him before relaxing. He loves the place he grew up, the place he first set foot in a Jaeger, the place his brother died defending. But he also hates it. He’s got ghosts in Alaska, ghosts he barely knows what to do with when he’s half a world away. Mako’s fingertips gently roll over his knuckles, the callouses on her skin warm and rough against his skin.

"It’s cold there," she says, her voice deceptively light. 

"What if I made you a sweater?" he asks, his body leaning forward slightly, pressing them closer together. 

"You already did," she says tilting her head to glance at him. 

Her eyes are deep and fathomless, they’re like the ocean. On the surface he can see calm, the unwavering. But underneath he can see all the emotion in her. She wants to go to Alaska. No, she wants to go with him. It doesn’t matter where. She trusts him. She’s so strong and she believes in him and the combination of those two things seems to block up his throat. 

He wants to tell her he’ll knit her a thousand sweaters. And hats, and socks and whatever else. That he’ll take her to Alaska or Tokyo or wherever she wants to go. But the words just seem to clog in his throat. Her fingers on his knuckles squeeze gently as she looks up at him. Their eyes hold each other, but the silence is not uncomfortable.

His knee moves or maybe she shifts, he’s not sure which but he urges her upwards. Her hand leaves his knuckles to hook into the strap of his tank as his leaves his needle to wrap around her upper back. They move in perfect sync, as if they’re sill connected in Gipy’s Conn Pod. For a moment they look at each other, perfectly level, just sharing the same air. 

It’s achingly sweet when their lips meet. 

It’s all soft and sweet and he wishes to God the moment would never end. The bitterness of the tea she drinks slides along his tongue, tempering the sweetness of the watermelon candies he’s been making his way through. His other hand reaches up to tangle in her hair as her other leg presses into his side. She gasps softly and he’s helpless not to pull her closer. 

"Raleigh," she sighs his name and he has to pull back before he pushes further. 

They look at each other and he can see everything in her eyes. He feels naked to her gaze but that doesn’t bother him like it used to. Her mind is an echo in his. But in moments like this, he feels like they’re still in each other’s heads. Her lips part and she smiles, something gentle and pure which is a sharp contrast to the grin he can feel splitting his, something that only gets bigger when she leans her forehead against his. 

"So should I make you another sweater next?" he asks, his voice slightly unsteady. 

"No point," she says, her breath warm against his face, “I’ll just steal another of yours."


End file.
